22
Altitude
Teya lay face forward against stone. She felt the sun grow suddenly hot on her back, and knew the eclipse was past. Everything was quiet, and the ground was still beneath her.
She was somewhere. She did not know where. She hardly cared.
‘Pahuac, Coco…’
‘Get her up. See if she hit her head,’ she heard. She barely understood the odd sounding words. They were clipped and foreign, and strangely bland. Her mind struggled with their shapes, until a gear shifted and she knew.
English.
Someone gently rolled her over, and a dark face bent over her, silhouetted by the sun.
‘Pahauc? Why are you still here?’
‘What’s she saying? Is that Quechua?’
‘Teya, it’s me.’
‘Pahuac?’
‘Mateo.’
What? Was she dreaming? My god, was she home?
Her vision cleared and she sat up. All around her
